


Overdone & Overwrought

by saltedearthsch



Series: The Raven and The Nightingale [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Hurt, Injury Recovery, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21975898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltedearthsch/pseuds/saltedearthsch
Summary: the attack at rhalgr's reach has more effects than expected.
Relationships: Sidurgu Orl/Original Character(s), Sidurgu Orl/Warrior of Light
Series: The Raven and The Nightingale [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1578472
Kudos: 21





	Overdone & Overwrought

**Author's Note:**

> This idea once again brought to you by amandaterasu. If you don't know her, please check her out here or on Twitter!
> 
> This is written for my ship between my WoL, Sumire Oshiga, and Sid, but feel free to mentally replace her with yourself~

Dirt and dust mixed dangerously on her skin, threatening to slide with her sweat into her eyes. In other places, it stung as it slipped into the various cuts and wounds she’d acquired during her earlier struggles, turning the color of rust as it slid down her pale skin. Clinging to her blade, she did her best to stand strong against the onslaught of power being thrown at her. Behind her, the bodies of the other Scions and the victims of Rhalgr’s Reach lay, and her fist clenched tighter on the hilt. They were depending on her to protect them, to stop him, to stave off further bloodshed if she could. Reaching deep inside, she sought out the final reserves of shadow swirling within, fragmented and shallower than usual though they were with Myste’s interference. Forcing herself to stand, she glared at Zenos yae Galvus.

Tugging her blade from the sands, she staggered forward, shadows swirling in her wake, giving the faint impression of another that stood with her. It vanished in the next instant however as one of Zenos’ swords narrowly missed her and dispersed the aetherial phantom. Arcing her massive greatsword at him, a flurry of dark magic collided with the viceroy, but he only smirked and readied his next attack. Forcing her sluggish mind to try and predict where he would strike next, she sprinted to what she hoped was safety. Her steps twisted madly, knocking her to the ground, as she realized too late that she had guessed incorrectly. The force of his assault slammed into her, sending her flying and crashing into the earth.

Though her willpower remained, Sumire could no longer force her body to stand. She was spent, and the realization that she was too weak, that she had failed, overwhelmed her, sending hot tears streaming across her battered skin, stinging and blurring her vision further. She could see more than hear as Zenos took a few steps toward her, observing that his fallen enemy would not be rising again. He turned on his heel, tossing the one sign of her attempts to stave him off - his broken blade - to the ground.

“Pathetic,” she heard him hiss, and the tears came faster. She was grateful, certainly, that he was choosing to leave, taking Fordola and their allies with him, but despaired that she had not been able to fully stop him. Who knew when he would strike next. Who knew if she would be able to stand against him again. 

Before she could think on it further, unconsciousness took over and her vision went black.

* * *

“Sid!” The knight in question was just knocking snow from his greaves at the Forgotten Knight when Rielle came dashing up to him. Normally he would not have been concerned by the fear in her face, knowing he could likely overcome whatever was bothering her, but something felt off. Rather than worry that might be easily assuaged, she looked genuinely afraid.

“What are you so bothered about?” He asked as the girl came to a stop in front of him.

“It’s Sumire.” He cursed how easily the two words caught his attention. “Something happened in Gyr Abania, I just got word from Tataru and…” She trailed off, and he realized with a start that her eyes had begun to glisten. With gentleness he only reserved for her and a few others, he guided her to a chair and knelt.

“Tell me,” he prompted. She bit her lip and took a shuddering breath.

“There was a fight. A bad one. Tataru says she hasn’t woken up yet…” At the words, his blood ran colder than the winds of the Highlands. Sumire’s ability to recover had always been a remarkable trait of her supposed crystal blessing. The fact that whatever she’d suffered had rendered her so enfeebled she had yet to wake… He could only attempt to imagine what must have transpired. Standing, he glowered into the hearth for a moment and then began to make for the stairs.

“Rielle,” he called over his shoulder. She nodded weakly.

“I know. I’ll stay here, just in case. The Fortemps will want to know what happened, too.” 

* * *

The dust and sands of Gyr Abania stung his eyes as the Chocobo carried Sidurgu through the rocky terrain. He had underestimated exactly how long the journey would take him, and he was nigh delirious from lack of sleep, but it was nothing he had not faced before. He had spent countless hours in vigils and Ompagne’s relentless training, sometimes not sleeping for days to hone his arts. What was a little lost sleep if it meant making sure  _ she  _ was okay?

It seemed ridiculous that in such a short time a soft-spoken Raen girl had made herself so at home in his heart. Even Rielle, whom he had been watching over for some time, did not get such a rise out of him when it came to her well-being. But just the knowledge that Sumire might be injured, perhaps fatally enough that she might not ever step foot in the Knight again, had him nearly dizzy with emotion.

When he was younger, he had taken the title Obsidian Heart, thinking himself immune to most feelings of other people. But it was as if she had a lit fire beneath him from the day they met, and as the time passed between them, he had begun to melt. He had known from the outset that she was different - that though she possessed Fray’s stone, she was not his former friend, nor like him. He could not have imagined just how much so. Now, where he would have stood cold and resolute, he found his hands shook as he gripped the Chocobo’s reins, and his pulse roared in his ears as they crossed the final steps into the outpost known as Rhalgr’s Reach.

The signs of battle were still there, if you knew how to look for them - dark sand where the fallen had once lain, debris from the encounter, the air of unease. But he looked past them as he dismounted, searching instead for any sign of where the infirmary might be. 

“Sidurgu?” A voice called as he searched. Turning, he saw the Elezen that had accompanied Sumire in Ishgard, the one they called Alphinaud. His eyes were red, and he looked more disheveled than he ever remembered seeing the boy. Crossing the dusty ground, he met him under the archway she stood beneath. “What are you doing here?”

“Rielle told me what happened.” His face took on a pained quality, and he felt a twinge of sympathy. Surely he was just as distraught as he was.

“This way.” He followed him into one of the rooms, where a few healers scurried about, tending to other injured soldiers. They passed through to a partitioned area, and in the bed behind it lay the source of their shared anguish.

Sumire had always been mighty small compared to him, both in stature and form, but wrapped in bandages beneath the sheets, she looked ever more doll-like. He knelt beside her, taking one of her hands in his where it lay atop the blanket. Her pulse was steady and slow, speaking to sleep, and though it was not much it eased his worry somewhat. If only marginally.

“They say she most likely used too much mana. She and Y’shtola both gave their all to stop the attack… Neither of them have woken up, but they have been stabilized.” He hovered for a moment after that, seeming unsure, but eventually whispered his farewell and disappeared back the way they’d come.

Sidurgu sat silently for some time, having wrapped her hand in both of his, watching the subtle rise and fall of her chest. She was alive. That much alone should have drawn the tension in every part of him, but with the uncertainty of when she might awake, he could not shake the anxiety. Eventually he sighed, leaning his head against her mattress.

“You have truly overdone it this time, little bird,” he murmured. “Perhaps you should have listened to that voice inside the darkness for once -- now look at how they have used you up, leaving you here like some broken sword that must needs be reforged.” He traced her knuckles with his fingers, frowning as they brushed over bandages and bruises. 

“When will you ever let someone else do the fighting?” He paused, swallowing thickly. “I would do it, if you would let me. I would fight every beast or man that stood in your way or threatened the victories you seek. No obstacle would stand before us both undefeated. After all, is that not what you do for the people you love?

“And I do. Love you. Perhaps since we first met, though I could not have named the feeling. Not that you would know it, because I can never say it. Your path is far too brilliant to be dabbling in darkness with myself. But whatever you face, I swear to you that you shall never face do so alone. You will always have me should you need me. Just please… come back to me.”

He was rambling now, to the air as much as the unconscious girl before him, but something had driven the words out of him. The lingering fear for her fate, perhaps? That he might never again be able to tell her the things he had kept buried during their time together. Whatever it was, he could not be bothered to stir up any anger at it. Now he could return to Ishgard, go back to behaving as if nothing had him beholden to her other than the camaraderie of shared darkness. 

At some point, in the hush of his silence and her quiet breathing, his lack of sleep caught up and pulled him into darkness. His sleep was dreamless as ever, just endless black and quiet. Then suddenly, his name in her voice -- distant at first, and then louder, until it pulled him back into the dusty light of Rhalgr’s Reach once more. In his delirium, he thought the sound still his imagination, until he felt the faint sensation of fingers twined with his.

“Sid?” Ignoring the crack of his neck, he whipped his head up to find her hazel eyes staring back at his, wide with surprise but lacking their usual sparkle. Surprised, he sat up, leaning closer even as his hand tightened around hers.

“You’re awake!” She seemed just as surprised as he.

“What are you doing here?” 

“Tataru sent word to Ishgard of your condition. I got here as soon as I could.” She was silent for a moment, simply staring at him and he was surprised to see her eyes start to glisten. The urge to reach out and hold her overtook him for a moment, but he banished it. She was recovering, and it would be highly out of character.

“I’m sorry you had to come all this way,” she murmured. He snorted.

“I think Rielle would not have forgiven me if I’d stayed in Foundation.” Her chuckle was hoarse, voice raspy with disuse. He frowned. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got trampled by an entire nest of drakes,” she managed, and he cupped her cheek, fingers brushing the scales there, now warm with life where they had once been cold. He sighed quietly in relief. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Three days, give or take? You really spent yourself, nightingale.” Her face tilted away from his, toward the wall.

“I had to.” When she looked at him again, her eyes held a light he’d seen many times -- hard determination contrasted with soft passion. “They were going to kill everyone, Sid. I had to do something, anything.”

“You weren’t at your full strength, even before your injuries,” he chided. “What would have been the point if you had died?”

“Better me than someone else,” she replied flatly, and he knew she would hear no more arguments on it. He was rebuking her for making him worry, he knew, rather than condemning her actions themselves. They both knew it. So instead he rose, pulling away from her.

“What matters is you’re awake. I’m sure the others will be glad to hear it.” An expression he could not read flickered across her face, and then was gone.

“You’re leaving?”

“I fear the weather of Gyr Abania does not suit me as it does you, little bird.” He gave her a grimace. “And Rielle will want to know you are no longer in danger.” She hummed, reaching for his hand and squeezing it weakly.

“I promise, when I am well enough to travel, I will come back.” He nodded.

“We’ll be waiting.” And then he turned to find the chocobo porter, leaving his heart to regain her strength, and hoping the distance could make his own stop aching.

* * *

When Sidurgu had gone, Sumire lay in silence for some time. The healers and Scions came through several times to exclaim their relief at her recovery, or cry over her injuries. She smiled and assured them she would be fine, and the healers supported her claims, amending that she would still need much rest to fully recover. They tried to tell her of other things -- how the Resistance was faring, Y’shtola’s condition, the movements of the Empire. But the only thing in her mind were five words, echoing in a loop that left her dizzy.

_ “And I do. Love you.” _

She had known for sometime that her affections for her fellow Knight traipsed beyond friendly or familial. Somewhere along the line, she had come to love him. For although he often feigned being standoffish or aloof, he was loyal, grounded, ever a seeker of justice. He understood and accepted her darkness in a way none of the others she had met could hope to, even Estinien. But she had kept the feelings trapped deep in that darkness, knowing she could never stand equal to him. He deserved someone who could match his strength, his skill, his resolve -- and if anything this encounter with Zenos had proved to her even more that she could not. 

Once the others had finally left her be, Sumire curled in on herself beneath the sheets, and cried. For those she had failed to protect, for her weakness, and for the love she could never have.


End file.
